There was nothing there now except an old apple tree and a section of ground he had never planted.
“Dad?”
He folded the letter.
“I know what’s there.”
Claire moved closer.
“What?”
Dad looked toward the tree.
“Something your grandmother buried fifty-seven years ago.”
PART 5 – The Box Beneath the Apple Tree
We waited until morning.
This was Dad’s decision.
Claire wanted to dig immediately.
So did I.
But Dad stood beneath the apple tree in the fading evening light and shook his head.
“Some things waited fifty-seven years. They can wait until daylight.”
At six the next morning, mist rested low over the garden.
It seemed fitting.
The garden had revealed its first secret in fog.
Now it offered another.
Dad brought a shovel.
Claire carried Rebecca’s notebook.
I carried Ruth’s letter.
Anna came.
Brent came too, though he remained respectfully near the fence until Dad waved him closer.
